Balloons and Bass Drops
by Cecils-graham-cracker
Summary: Cecil gets his hands on some balloons. They make great toys for floating cats in bathrooms and after receiving an anonymous note, Cecil gets a brilliant idea...
1. Chapter 1

Carlos had made a mistake.

Well, many mistakes, that is. His first was agreeing to host a party for one of his coworker's birthdays. His second was going to the store to get decorations. His third was buying the biggest pack of balloons he found. His final big mistake was showing said balloons to Cecil.

Cecil and he had been tidying up the chemistry sets (many of which Cecil almost managed to knock over, much to Carlos's horror) and Cecil found the decorations. Carlos was surprised to find out that Cecil had never in fact actually held a balloon. Of course he'd seen them, he had simply never handled any or examined them up close.

"What exactly makes them float?" he asked.

"Helium. It's the lightest element on the periodic table," Carlos responded matter-of-factly.

Cecil was silent a moment. Then, "I'll pretend I understand because, as I continuously say, I'm very into science these days."

Carlos simply laughed and went back to cleaning. They were done in a little over an hour and Cecil insisted Carlos get rest if he were to be a host the next day.

"Cecil, stop being such a mother hen!" the scientist teased. "I'll be fine. I hardly get any sleep anyway due to projects so it's nothing unusual. I can handle it."

But Cecil pestered him until he finally gave in, if only to get Cecil off his back about it. Cecil tucked him in gently, and climbed in next to him. Carlos felt strong tattooed arms wrap around his midsection.

"Goodnight, perfect Carlos."

Carlos smiled to himself. "Goodnight, Cecil."

…

The next day came seemingly as soon as Carlos had closed his eyes. He groaned as the light from the open blinds hit him in the face. Squinting his eyes, he noticed a lack of a certain radio host in the room. He found a note on the breakfast table downstairs.

_Dearest Carlos,_

_I must apologize for leaving so abruptly and rushing out the door. There's been a bit of a…situation…with the new station management that must be taken care of. Y'know, the idio malevolen inconsidera Strexcorp? I wish I did not have to leave, and I wish I could make it back in time for your party. I took some balloons, though, to show the interns and maybe use them as some play-toys for Khoshekh. I shall see you after work for our dinner date, yes?_

_Love,_

_Cecil_

Carlos sighed softly, smiling. He made himself coffee and looked out the window to see the neon sign of Big Rico's. Before he could allow himself to get more distracted, he made his way to the bathroom to take a shower.

…

"Hey, big guy!" Cecil cooed at the floating cat.

It had taken him a considerable amount of time but he finally figured out how balloons worked. Having popped several and, by extension, terrified the snot out of himself, he had successfully blown one up and tied it. He watched as Khoshekh and his kittens batted the thing around and couldn't help but go crazy with how cute it was.

He had one balloon left. He sat at his sound booth, staring at it and wondering what to do with it. It was a brilliant, royal purple (his favorite color) and he didn't want to waste it. He heard a faint bang come from the bathroom and a few surprised meows and laughed to himself under his breath.

He looked to his right to begin the basic setup for his broadcast in an hour, and found a little note with a paw print on it. He frowned and opened it.

_Hey Cecil._

_You don't know who this is. But don't worry about that. Let's just say I'm a friend. I don't work for or come from Strex. I'm on your side._

_Anyway, I heard about the party Carlos is having. Word gets around in this town. I saw he had balloons. I'm surprised you haven't figured this out yet._

_Make a tiny incision in a blown-up balloon and breathe in the helium. Don't worry, it's not toxic. I promise._

_It's something a lot of people do. I think you'll enjoy it. You'll feel slightly lightheaded though, so don't breathe in too much. Since this is Night Vale, it'll probably be different . Who knows?_

_One way to find out._

After a bit of thought, Cecil found some scissors and cut a small hole in the side of the full balloon.

…

Steve was enjoying a leisurely cup of tea with a good (approved) book in his living room. He had been listening to the reports of John Peters (you know, the farmer?) and suddenly wondered if there had been any news on him lately. Little did anyone know, but Steve and John were quite close. He turned on his radio to the regular station Cecil broadcasted on, but heard nothing but faint laughter in the background and what sounded like someone falling over they were laughing so hard.

It didn't sound like Cecil. It sounded a bit more like that scientist he was dating, but that couldn't be right. Carlos would never even agree to an interview on air and the farthest he had gone was a phone call during the show so what would be the odds of him actually doing a broadcast? Steve listened as the person seemed to pull themselves up on the chair and hit their head on the microphone accidentally, still dying of laughter. "Carlos" slapped his hand on the table multiple times, trying to breathe as tears ran down his face.

Ok, so clearly there would be no stories on John any time soon, so Steve simply turned the radio off and continued reading.

…

The lab was pretty crowded for not inviting many people to the party. Presents had been opened and pleasantries exchanged and by the time that was done it was basically an unplanned dance-off in the basement. Dave and Rachelle went up against each other more then once and almost every time Rachelle beat the pants off Dave. Then, she looked to Carlos and snatched his arm, pulling him into the competition. Carlos tried to back away slow, insisting he couldn't dance worth his life, but Rachelle was having none of it and insisted. It was her birthday anyway, and it was a valid excuse.

"Fine," Carlos snarled. He actually could dance relatively well but he didn't like to admit it. Whenever he did he had to punch a wall to feel manly again.

Rachelle plugged in the iPod and cranked up "Best Day of My Life" by American Authors. She went first, belting out intricate dance moves in a mocking way toward Carlos.

_Oh-ooo-ooh! Oh! This is gonna be the best day of my li-i-i-fe! My li-i-i-i-i-i-iife!_

Carlos began dancing back with complex combinations of multiple dance genres, completely showing Rachelle up. He was aided by the cheering of their friends and the battle continued without mercy. Carlos took off his signature lab coat, leaving the red flannel shirt and dark jeans, and was given a bigger range of movement without the thing on. He began to think of Cecil and realized he'd missed today's broadcast. But he would see his radio host later that evening anyway, so he would catch up then. He closed his eyes and got lost in the music as the bass dropped, letting it move him.

…

Cecil was wearing his famous furry pants. He's been told they look tacky, but he was more worried on wearing something that was comfortable and casual rather than the everyday style of the modern world. He was currently driving to Big Rico's where he and Carlos had their date set up. They went there a lot but never seemed to get tired of it. He passed the little pyramid figurine the almighty pyramid had left behind a while ago and smiled at it, chuckling softly to himself. No one had ever found out the answers or questions the pyramid had left behind. The little pyramid didn't really have much to say beside the common insult.

He was nearly hit by a falling turkey carcass from the mighty Glow Cloud as he got lost in thought, and finally reached his destination. He walked in and met Carlos at their table.

"Hey, Cecil," Carlos said in his normal oakey tone.

"Hello, Carlos!"

Carlos just about fell out of his chair. "Cec-wh-what?" He felt a smile forming.

Cecil, meanwhile, was flopped in the chair, laughing. "I-I took one of your balloons to the station! I found a letter that told me to-"

"-breathe in the helium?!" Carlos exclaimed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Cecil's voice was incredibly high-pitched but still had the low tones…simply a few octaves higher. Carlos burst out laughing at the entire situation. "I can't believe you actually did that!"

"I don't know who the letter was from but I tried it and I'm pretty sure it lasts 24 hours here in Night Vale," Cecil went on, pausing every once in a while to try and stem the laughter. "Hah-you should've seen Station Management's face! I gotta do this way more often!" Tears were streaming down both their faces and they decided to simply not eat and just hobbled outside to Cecil's car and somehow managed to make it back to Cecil's place. They were both desperately trying to catch their breath as they fell on the couch.

"I still can't believe we're still laughing about this!" Carlos wheezed.

"Forget that," Cecil interjected. "I'm surprised I've been laughing ever since my broadcast!"

Carlos was laughing so hard it wasn't even audible. "Y-you were like this for your broadcast?!"

"Y-Yeah! I locked myself in the booth and g-good thing t-too! I wish I had a camera for the look on Daniel's face!"

Carlos could just about imagine the poor Strex worker with a horrified look on his face as he heard Cecil's chipmunk voice. "O-Ok, Cec…we need to start trying to breathe!"

But Cecil had fallen on the floor on his stomach and was laughing harder than ever. "Carlos-you're the smart science-y one! Help!"

Carlos was beginning to calm down a bit. He was panting on the couch and his entire body hurt. "Aw man, I love the world," he slurred.

"It feels like I've been beat up!" Cecil replied, still laughing a considerable amount but now not as much so.

"Your lungs must feel that way!"

They both lay there for what seemed like forever slowly catching their breath with an occasional giggle from the two of them. They were silent for around a minute until Cecil propped himself up on his elbows and looked to the scientist.

"Hey Carlos," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Got any more balloons?"


	2. Chapter 2

**BONUS**

**I loved this story and figured you guys deserved to know Cecil's side of the helium incident.**

After a bit of thought, Cecil found some scissors and cut a small hole in the side of the full balloon. He was apprehensive, but always the outgoing one. He tentatively breathed in the light gas and felt a tad lightheaded, just as the note said he would. But after that passed, he didn't feel any different.

_Am I…supposed to float or something?_ he thought.

He was on air in a few moments, so he put on his headphones and turned his mic on. His show began in three…two…

"The soft desert-"

Cecil couldn't finish. …his voice…it was so high pitched! It sounded…kinda hilarious, actually. He tried again.

"The soft-" He began to giggle. N_ope, nope, nope, Cecil. Focus. You have a radio show to broadcast. Ignore it for now._

He took a couple of deep breaths. "Sorry about that listeners," he managed to say, stuttering from faint chuckles. "But…it appears I hah-have-"

He couldn't finish after that. It was just too hard a thing to do. His voice sounded so much like the chipmunks Carlos told him about! He burst out laughing, only laughing harder at the sound of his own chipmunk laugh. So this is what helium does!

Poor Cecil smacked his hand on the desk repeatedly, and feverishly shouted "welcome to night vale!" and was only entertained more by the sound of it. He ended up falling off his chair onto the floor, only causing him to roll into the fetal position and try to calm down. Yeah, like that was gonna work.

He ended up crying he was laughing so hard. But what was truly amusing was Daniel's face in the booth. He had a look of pure hatred that, for some reason, Cecil found hilarious.

"I-I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen!" he sputtered. "Actually, n-no, I'm not sorry at all!" His fits of laughter were getting stronger and his diaphragm hurt. His third eye was closed and the sentient tattoos all over his body were swirling and dancing in rhythm with themselves at how happy their host was. They glowed a royal violet.

Cecil had no idea how on earth he managed to possibly get through his entire radio show, but he did. Always the professional, right? He didn't want to face station management so he ended up smashing a window that led outside and made his way painfully to his dinner date with a certain scientist.


End file.
